Eligible (45 page)

LIZ FOUND HER
father in his study. She said, “You know when we were talking about if Mary’s gay and you said people can do what they want as long as they don’t practice it in the street and frighten the horses?”

Mr. Bennet sighed. “It appears your youngest sister is doing everything in her power to call my bluff.”

“I realize that being transgender seems weird to you,” Liz said. “But the world has changed a lot.”

“Indeed.”

“I don’t want us to be one of those families that has a huge rift and doesn’t speak to each other. Do you?”

“What would you have me do?”

“Help Mom get past this. When Lydia and Ham are back in Cincinnati, invite them over for dinner like normal. Or, I don’t know, give them a waffle iron. They didn’t get married to spite you guys. They’re in love.”

Mr. Bennet smiled wryly. “I suppose they are,” he said. “But that’s a condition that’s acute, not chronic.”

“WHEN DID YOU
know?” Liz asked Kitty. They were in Kitty’s car on their way to pick up dinner from Bangkok Bistro. “Did you know as soon as you guys started doing CrossFit?”

“Basically.”

“So it’s not like Lydia was flirting with the gym owner,
then
found out he was transgender. She knew all along?”

“It’s the kind of thing people talk about. It’s also, like, Ham is insanely strong. He can do fifty pull-ups in a minute, which is amazing, and when you consider that he was born a girl—” Clearly, Liz thought, Kitty didn’t share her concern about using politically incorrect language. Kitty added, “If anything, Ham being trans made Lydia more intrigued.”

“I wonder if she’ll become an activist for LGBT causes now,” Liz said, and Kitty laughed.

“That isn’t how she sees herself at all, or how she sees him. She definitely thinks of him as a guy, and she’s into the whole chivalry thing. Well, it does sound like his firsthand knowledge of women’s bodies is a bonus with sex.”

“Ugh.” Liz put up a hand, her palm to Kitty, and Kitty laughed again.

“You’re such a prude.”

“I’m not a prude,” Liz said. “Good for them. But I don’t need to hear about it.”

“Then why are you asking me all these questions?”

LYDIA’S TEXT ARRIVED
in midmorning the next day, sent as a group message to Jane, Liz, Mary, and Kitty:
Were coming back tonite having a party can u guys get some alcohol

Another text followed:
At our place around 9

And then a third:
No champagne too sugary but tequila/hard cider not the cheap kinds

An explosion of sororal texts ensued.

From Kitty:
Congrats!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

From Jane:
I wish I could be there, congratulations!

From Mary:
Are you enjoying being a lesbian?

From Liz:
I think it’s important for you to reach out to M & D

From Kitty:
Their acting bonkers

From Liz:
Also tell Ham I look forward to having him as a brother in law

From Mary:
“Brother” in law

From Lydia:
Mary trust me ham is more masculine than 99% of dudes out there

From Lydia:
M & D can think whatever they want

From Lydia:
We use a 9 inch dildo Mary u should try it some time maybe u wouldn’t be so fucking grumpy

From Lydia:
Isn’t it funny I’m the youngest but the 1st to get married???

THE REMARKS THAT
had previously echoed in Liz’s head—
I’m in love with you, I can’t stop thinking about you—
had been replaced. As she stood in the shower rinsing shampoo from her hair, as she ate a turkey sandwich, as she drove to Hyde Park Wine & Spirits and compliantly purchased noncheap tequila and hard cider, and then to Joseph-Beth Booksellers, where she acquired a paperback titled
Transgender 101: A Simple Guide to a Complex Issue,
the line that echoed instead was
I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline.
Driving along Edwards Road, she thought,
I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline. I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline. I’m sure you’ve heard from my brother about him and Caroline.

Back in her room, Liz looked online and found the location and meeting times of a support group for family members of transgender individuals. She then found the names of three family therapists, copied down the information by hand, folded the piece of paper, inserted it into an envelope on which she wrote
Mom & Dad,
and attached the envelope to
Transgender 101
with a rubber band. Finally, when she could think of no other gestures to convince herself she was a dutiful daughter and sister, Liz booked a ticket on a flight to New York for the following morning.

LYDIA WORE A
short yellow sundress and flats, and she did seem filled with a newlywed bliss Liz had never really believed existed. By way of greeting, the bride held out her left hand to Kitty and Liz (Mary had decided not to attend the party), and an enormous emerald-cut diamond ring atop a diamond-encrusted wedding band caught the light. “We got them at Tiffany’s on the Magnificent Mile,” Lydia said. “They cost twenty thousand dollars altogether.”

“They’re pretty,” Liz said.

“Did Ham pay in cash?” Kitty asked.

Ham approached then, and though Liz detected in him an underlying wariness as they both leaned in to hug, he, too, seemed genuinely happy. “Congratulations,” Liz said. “Welcome to the family.”

“I realize this didn’t play out in the ideal way,” Ham said. “But I hope you know, Liz and Kitty, that I intend to honor and care for your sister.”

His earnestness was both touching and embarrassing; also, Liz was aware of scrutinizing his goatee in a way she hadn’t in the past. She murmured, “Of course.”

“I plan to keep trying with your parents,” he said. “I think it’s best to let them have some space for now, but I’m not giving up.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Liz said, and then a tall, red-haired woman she’d never met embraced Ham and, in doing so, interrupted the conversation.

About three dozen other guests—visibly athletic men and women in their twenties, thirties, and forties, plus a smattering of preppy young women who were childhood friends of Lydia’s—milled about. Ham’s house was a narrow and immaculate five-story dwelling in Mount Adams with a granite-filled kitchen and a roof deck. Setting her tequila and cider on the dining room table, where a bar had been assembled—there were, in fact, some bottles of champagne, one of which Liz poured from for herself—Liz was accosted by Jenny Teetelbaum, Lydia’s best friend from Seven Hills. At a normal volume, Jenny said, “Isn’t it crazy about Ham? I would
never
have guessed.” In the hope of setting an example, Liz lowered her own voice. “I’m excited for them,” she said.

“I hear your parents are freaking out,” Jenny said. “Which is so understandable.”

“Are you still teaching kindergarten?” Liz asked.

After hearing in detail about the whimsies of five-year-olds, Liz found herself in the living room, at the edge of a conversation about whether clean and jerks or burpee pull-ups were the single best CrossFit exercise, when Ham tapped a fork against his glass. He stood in front of the fireplace, Lydia beside him. “Thank you all for joining us tonight,” he said, and this remark alone prompted clapping and hoots. “I just want to say, on behalf of Lydia and me, we’re thrilled to have you celebrating with us, and we appreciate your support as we enter the next stage of our lives together. And I want to say to Lydia, baby, thank you for making me the happiest guy alive!” They turned their faces to kiss, and the cheering that ensued was positively uproarious. When the embrace ended, Lydia raised both her arms above her head like an Olympic skier who’d completed a victorious run. “Turn on the music!” she cried out, and Liz couldn’t tell if the first dance that followed, to Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing,” was planned or impromptu. That Lydia and Ham were in love seemed beyond doubt.

A few minutes later, while Lydia was dancing with Jenny Teetelbaum, Liz tapped her sister on the shoulder. “I’m headed out,” she said. “Congratulations again.”

Lydia’s expression was scornful. “It’s not even eleven!”

“I’m going back to New York in the morning. Lydia, I really hope you’ll get in touch with Mom and Dad.”

“Don’t nag me at our party.”

“They might be old and weird and narrow-minded, but they’re the only parents you have.”

“Oh my God, can you even stop for one second?” Lydia reached for Liz’s hand, grasped it, and began twirling under their linked arms. “Have you completely forgotten how to enjoy yourself?” Lydia asked, and Liz thought,
Maybe.

She stepped in and hugged her loathsome, charming younger sister. “Keep me posted,” she said.